“Doesn’t want to move until they’re gone, in case they see.”
They looked at me. A moment passed in which we all seemed to be waiting for another to speak.
Nestor swam back and forth, pacing. “I heard they dropped something on the Nereid Peaks.”
Thetis tensed. “Did the prisoners get out?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Lucky. Don’t know why he’s keeping her alive. It’s giving the luna bin hope.”
Keeping who alive?Was he talking about me? But no—I had no idea what Thetis was referring to bythe luna bin.
“If I had the serpent, I’d have done away with…” With a start, he seemed to realise what he was saying and snapped his mouth closed. His greyish skin paled.
Nestor backed away from Thetis as if retreating from a hungry shark.
“I only meant—if I were king—not that I think—” said Thetis, but Nestor shook his head.
Their fear leeched onto me, my pulse accelerating. I didn’t understand—why should I care about this merman speaking ill of Adaro? Then I became aware of the presence behind me. A dark, overpowering aura filled the water, blocking my ability to feel anything else.
I went instinctively still.
Adaro drifted into my line of sight, his focus on Thetis and Nestor.
Something about the black crown sent a chill through me. His red eyes popped against that reptilian skin. How had I possibly thought I could take him on? Even without the serpent, all the power I’d admired in Medusa was here in front of me—twice as large, a hundred times more terrible.
There was something else, too. Something that prickled my skin. Iron. Clutched in his fist was what looked like a broken, rusted pipe.
I glanced to the longblade on the floor, straining against my ropes with increasing desperation.
Adaro raised the iron rod to Thetis. Thetis flinched. But Adaro merely held it out to him, a calmness about his aura.
“Go on, then.”
“Y-your Majesty?”
“You think you can make a better king than I.”
“N-no, Your Majesty, of course—”
“But I just heard you, Thetis.”
“I meant—”
“Go on,” said Adaro. “I am making this simple for you.”
Nestor watched, still and silent, trembling worse than ever. Thetis looked from the iron rod to Adaro, and then around as though to ask for help.
“I give you permission, Thetis. Kill me. Stab it through my heart.”
Adaro kept the weapon at arm’s length, unwavering. His aura was calm, yet Thetis and Nestor cowered as though staring into the cavernous jaws of the serpent.
I saw no way out of this for Thetis. In another universe, one where he had not tried to turn Lysi over to Adaro, and one where my every emotion was not focused on the fact that I would never see her again, I might have felt sorry for him.
I watched with detachment as, slowly, Thetis reached for the iron rod.
Nestor made no sound of surprise or protest. He was so still, I would have missed him if relying on feel.
